By Ric Gindap · Design For Tomorrow · October 2026
Imagine Aleksandr, a startup cofounder from Copenhagen, arriving in Manila after a bruising divorce and a Series B funding round that nearly sank his company. He has booked a Palawan island holiday with the private hope that a change of place might help him feel like himself again. By the time he opens his room at Grand Hyatt Manila in BGC, the Philippines has already begun telling him its story.
The journey from Ninoy Aquino International Airport may have offered a first glimpse of Metro Manila’s sprawling density, or an intimate encounter with its grinding traffic that required a degree of patience his travel advisor failed to mention at the time of booking. Somewhere along the way, Ramon, a friendly airport staff member, may have helped with his bag, giving an unfamiliar destination its first human bond. Hyatt’s ever-smiling front desk associate receives a guest whose impressions are already quickly solidifying.

E. M. Forster, celebrated English novelist and humanist, understood how much could gather around a room. A Room With a View begins with disappointed travelers. Then they are offered a room exchange that disturbs the delicate conventions between strangers. Beneath the question of who gets the view lie anxieties about accepting kindness and encountering unfamiliar people. HBO fans may recall Shane Patton’s persistent grievance over a booking discrepancy, which opens a larger life. More on this later.
Hospitality professionals may recognize the situation, although most would prefer the guest’s existential awakening to begin after check-in, ideally somewhere beyond the front desk’s jurisdiction.
These scenarios prompted some thought after Adam Domingo from Leechiu Property Consultants sent me the 2026 PHILIPPINE ACCOMMODATION PIPELINE REPORT, produced in collaboration with the Philippine Hotel Owners Association. I met Adam at the recent Hospitality Philippines Conference at Marriott, where I joined a panel on experience architecture and hotel revenue. The report puts key discussions from the conference in a wider context: the country taking shape around the properties we eventually invite people to inhabit.

Confidence Has a Room Count. Demand Has Other Plans.
Look at its headline figures. At a glance, it carries considerable ambition: 45,884 planned accommodation keys across 213 properties, backed by ₱387 billion in developer commitments. Various openings are scheduled between 2026 and 2032. Each hotel key represents a considerable investment, based on the belief that someone will book the room. Fortunately, it opens a room. If it opened the spreadsheet, nobody would sleep.
Behind each key sit years of decisions. With those judgments comes the expectation that someone will find sufficient reason to make the journey.
This account has difficult passages. Of the 20,509 keys projected to open by 2026, 29% have been canceled. The remaining 71% combines properties that opened with those still delayed; just under 6,000 keys arrived on time. When an opening date moves, suppliers and future employees have to rearrange their lives while their bills tend to keep the original schedule.
The growing pipeline shows developers are still betting on new hotels while guests, as usual, insist on making their own plans.
The Philippine Statistics Authority reported ₱3.26 trillion in domestic tourism expenditure in 2025. Inbound expenditure fell 6.4% to ₱698.46 billion. According to reporting on the Department of Tourism’s dashboard, international visitor arrivals through August 2026 reached about 4.4 million, up just 0.78% from the comparable period a year earlier.
These measures describe different aspects of tourism. Taken together, they suggest a substantial tension between the accommodation we intend to provide and the demand we must earn. Before a developer settles on a room count, it helps to know who will fill those rooms in an ordinary year. The grand opening, regrettably, lasts only a day, and the Joyce Wang, André Fu, or Atelier Almario renderings, however stunning and persuasive, have yet to make a reservation.

The Emotional Baggage Travels Free
Philippine domestic travel gives that tension a human dimension. A family weekend getaway may have taken months to organize around school fees and everyone’s work schedules. A reunion may bring relatives back to a province they now know mostly through visits. They are paying to spend time together before another year gets away. The spreadsheet records the room rate, but it has no column for how much everyone has missed their increasingly frail mother.
Streaming shows and popular culture have become fluent at exposing the emotional baggage that accompanies a holiday. We met Shane Patton from HBO’s The White Lotus early on in this story. The show is conceived as a social satire of resort guests and employees, placing private difficulties inside the reassuring architecture of a vacation. Its appeal invites reflection on the distance between the experience people buy and the people they remain while enjoying it.
A panoramic sea view has an impressive range of benefits, although marital diplomacy and strained friendships remain outside its postcard-worthy specifications.
Guests arrive with different reasons for needing the trip to go well. A considerate experience accommodates those differences through competent assistance, giving travelers a perception of control when they feel least equipped to exercise it. That understanding should influence how a hotel operates from the beginning.
Other Countries Also Have Beautiful Coastlines
Vietnam welcomed nearly 21.2 million international visitors in 2025, up 20.4% from the previous year. For Philippine hotel developers, that growth raises a practical question: what will persuade a traveler to choose our islands for their next holiday? A beautiful coastline helps. It does, however, face considerable competition from other beautiful coastlines.
Thailand received over 32.9 million international visitors that same year. Behind those totals are livelihoods that visitor counts cannot fully describe. A local supplier might gain a regular hotel contract; a nearby tenant might face a rent increase. A fully booked resort offers limited consolation to a neighbor whose rent has acquired international ambitions.
Thailand’s tourism authority now emphasizes the value tourism generates and the benefits reaching local communities. ASEAN’s Tourism Sectoral Plan 2026–2030 also calls for sustainability and inclusion.
For the Philippines, these priorities raise questions worth settling before construction begins: who can earn a living from tourism’s growth, and who can afford to remain?
For developers, those questions belong in the planning meeting. Choosing local suppliers and preparing residents for hotel jobs helps determine how the investment benefits its surroundings. The welcome we promise guests begins with how we treat the people who will provide it. Even the warmest Filipino smile needs a salary it can live on.

Paradise Should Be Reachable
In an archipelago without smooth, frictionless infrastructure, beautiful locales and seamless access have an occasionally complicated relationship. Some argue that certain inconveniences can become an aspect of the adventure, but repeated uncertainty can erode the goodwill the trip was meant to create. Helping people reach the places we persuade them to desire should be part of the country’s hospitality proposition. Even paradise loses some of its appeal when getting there requires the organizational skills of a military campaign.
There’s a bright spark. The Pipeline’s geography offers encouraging possibilities. Mactan leads the report’s destination ranking with 4,655 keys, followed by Cebu with 3,827. Baguio has entered the top ten, while Cagayan de Oro’s pipeline exceeds Davao’s. Accommodation reaching further may make more places feasible settings for longer visits.
Every new hotel enters a place where people already have homes, routines, and ways of making a living. Hospitality creates obligations between the people arriving and those receiving them. Applied to tourism, that means asking what residents gain and how much say they have in the changes coming their way. Being described as “the heart of the destination” should at least come with an invitation to the meeting.
Residents will continue living there after the guests have checked out. Decisions about water and shared access deserve their participation, while opportunities for local suppliers can help the surrounding economy benefit from development.

A Beautiful Lobby Still Needs Hot Water.
September’s Michelin Key selections bring another dimension to this picture. The 2026 selection recognizes nine Philippine hotels, including the country’s first Two-Key properties, El Nido Resorts Lagen Island and Raffles Makati. Four hotels newly received One Key: NUSTAR Hotel Cebu, Hotel Okura Manila, Manami Resort, El Nido Resorts Pangulasian Island.
Recognition can introduce a property to travelers who need reassurance before choosing an unfamiliar destination. Its commercial value will depend on the experience that follows. An accolade creates expectations that the next guest will arrive carrying. Unfortunately, the guest will also arrive carrying luggage, which someone still has to help with.
Michelin considers architecture and interior design, service quality and consistency, personality, value relative to price, and contribution to the neighborhood or setting. The whole stay has to live up to the promise. A magnificent lobby can only do so much for a guest still waiting for hot water.
For Philippine hospitality, that offers encouragement to develop local character with greater confidence. Warmth becomes more tangible through a booking policy that understands families, or a regional meal explained by someone who knows its place in local life.
For those of us working in branding and design, this requires a closer relationship with the setting. Local identity can inform how a building responds to climate and how its furnishings are made, with the people carrying that knowledge participating in the value created.
This is where hospitality brand identity and placemaking begin to converge. The character of a destination can inform its visual identity, communications, wayfinding, and guest touchpoints, allowing visitors to encounter a recognizable sense of place throughout their stay.
Eventually, another imported pendant lamp tells us more about the shipping company’s cultural identity than the place we’ve come to visit.
Owners and operators must also examine the practical consequences of their promise. An intimate retreat requires a considered staffing approach. A hotel welcoming extended families needs to understand how they occupy space together. When supply grows faster than demand, a distinctive proposition can strengthen reasons to book, while pricing and operations determine how well it performs.

The Welcome Needs a Living Wage
The quality of the welcome also depends on the workplace. The Pipeline projects more than 64,000 direct hotel jobs; separately, the PSA estimates 7.70 million people employed across tourism industries in 2025, a more extensive category. These figures invite attention to the quality of the opportunities created, including the possibility of building a profession close to home.
We have long spoken proudly of Filipino warmth, to the point that we sometimes expect it to compensate for almost anything. Fair conditions and skilled leadership give employees a better chance of offering their best consistently. Recognition deserves to reach the people delivering the experience through professional development and a credible future in the work.
Guests remember a stay unevenly. In When More Pain Is Preferred to Less: Adding a Better End, Daniel Kahneman and his colleagues found that the worst moments and how the experience ended could strongly shape people’s recollections. Hotel stays deserve their own study, but the findings offer a useful question for designers and operators: how do we handle a guest’s frustrations, and how do we send them home? A lovely weekend can acquire a surprisingly bitter aftertaste when checkout becomes a courtroom drama over a dubious minibar charge.
A delayed room deserves deliberate handling. So does the departure, when a guest is already thinking about the expedition ahead. How competently you resolve uncertainty can become part of what they remember.
The Country Guests Carry Home
This brings to mind my work: “nation branding,” or simply the painstaking, deliberate act of shaping how people come to know a country. International recognition and familiarity give travelers a reason to consider the Philippines. What happens after they arrive gives them a reason to recommend it. Preferably without beginning with, “You’ll never believe what happened.”
For a country as geographically and culturally diverse as the Philippines, destination branding calls for an understanding of the relationship between national identity, regional character, tourism development, and lived experience. Every destination contributes to the larger story travelers come to associate with the country.
Visitors carry home the Philippines through their stories and personal experiences. They’ll rhapsodize about the batchoy broth, the cholesterol-inducing bagnet, the sisig crunch, or an unfamiliar local delicacy they can still taste and still talk about. Or perhaps they’ll retell a story of Filipino malasakit: imagine Oscar, a habal-habal driver who helped them find emergency lodgings when the weather overturned their plans. Those vivid memories shape what they tell their friends and whether they return. A national campaign may promise warmth. The person who finds you a ride and shelter in the pouring rain gives you a meaningful and tangible reason to believe it.
For everyone conceiving or preparing to launch a new hotel, the bigger question is what becomes possible when it opens. A well-planned hotel can draw travelers to an overlooked town, give someone a career close to family, or become the steady customer that helps a local business grow. Those outcomes deserve a place in the business plan. They tend to need a budget, however movingly they have been described in the brochure.
Eventually, someone will open one of these doors carrying expectations that never appeared in the feasibility study, and perhaps a private hope that the visit will give them something they have needed for a while. Being ready to receive them carries considerable responsibility and a rather beautiful possibility.
For a few days, someone else will make the bed while they consider what to do with the rest of their life.
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Ric Gindap leads Design For Tomorrow, an independent branding and design studio founded in Manila and registered in Singapore.
Originally published on LinkedIn. This version includes updated editorial content.